B.T.V -- Session 13 Interlude 1: The Chaos Sea of Amorphia

I await my end, my tomes of works about me, Never again to sail my soul upon the Chaos Sea. I stood atop a mat of a pinnacle, My voice rang out both flat and cynical. My brow furrowed ridges in deepest thought, Her voice burrowed across my mind not forgot. ‘When you stand above the mighty sea Drink your fill of Chaos and think of me. On high, behold the waters of sweet panacea The dread depths Draegerans call Amorphia. When your soul has had its fill Tell your drumming heart to still. In that calm so like the final death, Cry inwardly, to the horrid Sea without breath, Not of life, nor love, nor hope at all, Then sweet Chaos will hear our joined, plaintive call. You, from your most spiral towered height, Me, from the murksome depth, far from sight.’ I await my end, my tomes of works about me, Never again to sail my soul upon the Chaos Sea. Her voice bells in my head, While my eyes saw nightmares unfold Upon the hells so revealed, In those waters of Chaos untold. I decanted my cast words, sigils flowed from hand to Sea. I recanted my whole world, if only she would return to me. An Amorphic wave rose up to where I stood, I covered my head in fear, though it would do me no good. Chaos reached for me and I for her, Wracking sobs from Chaos, I need endure. And when the mewling noise was quiet, The pinnacle swayed with awesome riot. The stone took life and juddered anticly, She did not appear though I sought her frantically. The outcrop threatened to come unhinged, The Amorphic floes were madness tinged. At last! She stood before me, regal, wild and disturbed, My heart burst forth in joy uncurbed. She raised her face to mine, our limbs were twined, Her murmurs melted my hearing, her touch my mind. Like a jolt, she was torn from me and rent apart, A single bolt, obliterated her and scored her heart. Foul arrow, linear causality, Straight and pure and full of finality, The thing flew from a blinding cloud, A white mist holding the archer proud. I screamed my hate, I gave my spite vent, She was gone and my fate was spent. My decanted power lost forever. I await my end, my tomes of works about me, Never again to sail my soul upon the Chaos Sea. My enchanted will however, Would not abide to see him sever, I arrange my soul to quiver, My hatred's spume I must deliver. On the waters of this discrepancy, I might serve my necromancy. I gathered my force, I used the Sea of course. This ill-archer, Would live no farther. I gave myself to the flowing sea, If only it would destroy my foe for me. The Chaos rose upward to touch my hand, I came to know it, but not to understand. Mist met the Chaos spew, A cymbal sounded proud, the noise proclaimed loudly, Forms appeared, they numbered two. One of the Sea, a serpentine mass congealed just for me,

The other, foulest thing, I wished not to see. He, for it was much like a man, stood straight and severe, His cloak was cut sharp and austere. The Serpent called out in voices that shattered the stone, The pinnacle fell away, leaving me aloft, alone. Wholesome Anachaos railed at this mannish thing, The voices wailed seeking the man's end to bring. All the while, he stood apart. When he spoke, my mind saw art. He took the great serpent and made it small, His artifice vanished it as though it had never been, at all. I shout, I swear, I grieve, I curse. I tore at him with all my cast verse. The man in robes held himself still, The Sea went calm, which can only mean ill. I asked his name, for I knew naught else to ask. He answered he had been sent for a lawful task. He looked at me and at the Sea of Chaos, He gave a nod and began to speak of loss. He chanted a horrible, ringing, unholy Mass, Spoke of Law and rigid certainty and things come to pass. I wanted total deafness to come and take me. Nothing more for me than the End to be. He ended his sermon and the Sea was like glass. He told me to remember him, as Lord Donblas.